Page 13 of More than Enough
This man, this gorgeous specimen of a man who stood before her, wasn’t turned off by the idea of more. From the way his erection strained towards her, he was the opposite of turned off.
She watched as he stroked his cock again, then made quick work of putting on the condom before stalking back to the bed. He shifted in beside her and then, with a fluid movement, covered her as Jenn reached for him, pulling Nate down and into her arms. Cheek to cheek, she listened to the hitch in his breath as he rolled his hips, the head of his cock slipping into place so naturally it was as if they’d done this a hundred times. The shivery thrill inside her at being with him like this, holding him, feeling the strength of his body as he surrounded her—she hoped that would never fade.
He thrust as she raised her hips, and his cock glided home inch by inch, a steady push that filled and stretched her until he was as deep as he could go, hips grinding into hers.
Nate shoved his face against her neck, breathing gone harsh and heavy as he groaned out her name. His hips moved in little pulses, pulling back and plunging inside, repeating until they were both covered in sweat. Hands playing along his back and sides, she caressed every inch of him she could reach, keeping rhythm with his movements, lifting and arching against him.
He murmured her name like a mantra, soft and reverent. Interspersed were broken phrases, sentence fragments strung together on shallow breaths, and she loved knowing she was doing this to him.
“Jenn. God, Jenn.” His hand slipped up her side, fingers and thumb meeting at her nipple as he tugged and rolled. “So fuckin’ good. Good to me. You, with me like this. God. Deep in you. Tight and, tight, so fuckin’ tight. Giving. To me, give this.” His chin nudged at hers, and she arched her neck, granting him better access. “Mark you.” Teeth grazed along her neck, flesh soothed by a trailing pass from his tongue. “Mine. Want you to be mine.” Each phrase was punctuated by a hard thrust, driving deep, shaking her to her core. “Only me. Just me.” His lips found hers with a wet, fierce kiss, Nate possessing her fully. “Be mine. God. So good, what you do. Just me.”
“You want me to be yours?” At her words, his hips slapped against hers and he ground into her, pelvic bone hard against her clit. Air burst from him as he shoved his arms under her back, clutching her to his chest, and he buried his face against her neck again. “Want that, Nate? I want that, too. So much. I want to belong.” As she said the words, she realized they were a deep truth she’d never looked at too closely. “Want to be yours and no one else’s. Want to love you, and be loved.” She wrapped her arms around his neck, turning her head to whisper into his ear, “When I said I liked you, I wasn’t lying. I like you a lot, Nate. I want to be yours.”
He groaned deep and low, the edges of the sound jagged with lust. The whole time she held tight as his hips snapped forwards, driving his cock deep. Pounding hard until he stayed planted, another groan breaking free from his chest, and his body jolted. “You’re fuckin’ mine.” His arms squeezed, biceps flexing as he tightened his hold on her and filled the condom, his cock pulsing hotly inside her.
Jenn curved her limbs around every piece of Nate she could reach, pulling until the space between them was gone. Joined as they were, she could feel every shift of his body, every breath he took. Cheek pressed to his bristly one, she held her breath, letting the stroking passes of his hands on her skin build her courage. Finally, she released a gasp, felt the rumble of his questioning hum. “If I’m yours…” The words hung in the air until she finished, taking ownership of him and this fragile thing they were building together. “Then you’re mine.”
Eleven
Blade
“No, man.” He shook his head as he lifted the cold beer to his lips. Speaking against the lip of the bottle, he admitted his greatest fear. “There’s no reason for her to pick me. My gut tells me to hold back because it’s only a matter of time.” Today was a good talking day, the words flowing as easily as the beer did. He leaned an elbow against the table and looked up at Monk. “I ask myself why would she settle when she could have the world?”
“Why do you see it as settling?” Monk tipped his head to the side, a puzzled expression on his face. “You tell her about the wreck yet? That’s something you need to share, and you know it. Won’t matter to her. From what you’ve said, she already knows you’re a catch.”
He shrugged. “Not yet. It’s not my favorite topic. You of all people should understand. You picked my ass up off the floor enough, man. She’s fuckin’ perfect, and I’m…me.” Draining the bottle, he glanced at Monk’s to see the level had hardly moved. “Drink up, brother. I’ll get us a couple more.”
“Nah, man. I’m good. Gonna head out with some prospects soon. Ride up front, flash the patch. Gotta give ’em something to chase, ya know?” Monk settled in his chair, arm slung over the back. “Let’s get back to the part where you somehow think you’re less than desirable and that if the woman decided to be with you, she’d be selling herself short.”
“I don’t think.” He pushed his chair backwards and stood. “I know.”
“Don’t assume we won’t continue this conversation, asshole,” Monk called after him, and Blade lifted his hand over his shoulder, flipping him off.
When he was back in his chair with a beer, Monk sat in silence for a minute, waiting until Blade had a mouthful before he began again. “Out of anybody she could have picked, she’s set her sights on you.”
Blade grunted and nodded, swallowing hard. “Yeah, I don’t get it either.”
“You mistake me, motherfucker.” Monk leaned in, tapping the table with a stiffened finger. “Who the fuck are you to say what she gets to feel? Huh? That’s not your place, man. She likes you, or doesn’t…that’s hers, not yours. And if shewantsto pick you? Regardless of how you don’t feel worthy or some shit, if you wanna pick her back, then you fuckin’ go for it, brother. You go for it and you hold tight to that shit.” He reached out and thumped the backs of his knuckles against Blade’s chest. “You nearly fuckin’ died. She could die tomorrow.”
Acid burned up the back of Blade’s throat, and he opened his mouth to shout down Monk’s words. Monk cut him off with a brusque headshake.
“Brother, you know it could happen. Amanda’s husband didn’t make it back. He died overseas and left her alone. You had a stupid fuckin’ bitch mow you down with her car, and if the worst had happened, might never have met your Jenn.” Amanda was a war widow Monk had taken an interest in a while ago. They’d gone from only meeting at her dead husband’s grave to texting, and Blade believed it was only a matter of time before Monk pulled his head out of his ass and took it a step farther. “If you have a chance at a single moment with her and it’s something you both want, then why the fuck would you deny her that, brother? You take hold and make sure if it’s only a single fuckin’ moment, that it’s the best goddamned moment in her life. You take hold, for her. For you.” Another hard thump against his chest. “For you, brother. Because you do deserve her. She wants you? Don’t let her go, then. You take hold.”
He sat back with a huff, angling his chin to the side.
“Look at you, givin’ me grown-up advice like that.” Blade cleared his throat. “Turn a little of that on yourself, brother. You and Amanda, it’s a done deal, my man. You tell me to take hold?” Monk nodded, his eyes still aimed somewhere over Blade’s shoulder. “I’m telling you to let go that hold you have on yourself and trust that she’ll catch you when you fall. Let go and trust. I’ll hold if you do that. Can you do that for me, brother?”
“We’re a couple of fuckin’ saps, man.” Monk’s eyes cut sideways as he grinned.
Blade returned the smile, adding a nod. “Sugar sweet, that’s us.”
***
Jenn
She curled her legs up beside her on the couch, leaning back and studying Blade’s face. “You’re kinda scaring me,” she admitted, struggling to keep her voice even. He’d called a half an hour ago and asked if they could talk. The words sounded so much like a lead-in to the dreaded brush-off that it was all her mind would let her focus on. Now that he was here, the tension in his expression was palpable.
“I didn’t. I didn’t mean to, Jenn.” Brow furrowed, he shook his head. “I got something. I need to tell you.” Sentences broken and staccato, he told her a little more about the seriousness of whatever topic this was supposed to be with every word. “Shoulda already.”
